Certain Dark Things(55)

They got off the subway car and things went pretty well until Atl had to climb the stairs leading outside the station. She lost her footing, causing two bums who were sitting by the stairs to stare at them while he whispered to her, begging her to walk with him. Domingo had to put her arm around his shoulders, pulling her up. Soon they were in the tunnels and had reached his home.

He lowered her onto the mattress and lit several lanterns, then grabbed one and placed it on a hook above the bed.

“You need to take out the darts,” she said. “My leg. My shoulder. They’re … that’s … silver nitrate. It’s … anaphylactic shock.”

“Okay.”

He rolled her pants up and found the dart she was talking about. It was burrowed deep into her flesh. When he pulled, it seemed to sink deeper and Atl let out a gasp.

“Sorry,” he said. “It’s messed up. It’s embedded into your skin.”

“Yank it out,” she ordered.

“I can’t … I … wait.” Domingo took the lantern away and dashed to the other side of the chamber, opening and closing boxes until he found what he was looking for: a pair of old pliers. He had rubbing alcohol, but no bandages. He tore a T-shirt into long strips and hurried back to her side. When he set the lantern down, the shadows on the wall seemed to tilt and bob up and down.

He pressed one hand against her leg and held the pliers with the other, pulling a small, metallic needle out. Blood seeped out and he grabbed the rubbing alcohol, cleaning the wound.

“The other,” she said. Atl yanked off her jacket and rolled onto her side, her back to him.

Again he pulled out a needle, this time from her shoulder. Another had embedded itself right above her heart, and when he took it away blood sputtered like a river and though he kept pressing the T-shirt against it, it didn’t seem to stop.

“Atl, what do I do now? Do I get Elisa? Do I take you to Bernardino?”

“No. I can’t have Elisa panicking. Bernardino … never him. Okay? Too … unpredictable … dangerous.”

“Who, then?”

“Nobody. I’ll get better. I need to sleep,” she said, clutching the shirt against her chest. “Let me sleep.”

Domingo pulled a blanket over her. He boiled himself a bit of coffee over his portable stove and sat in a corner, biting his nails, thinking about what had happened and taking sips of coffee. It had been so fast. He’d barely been able to string two coherent thoughts together before chaos had exploded and some guys had been trying to pummel him into a car.

It had been scary. He’d known Atl was in a shitty situation, but it had been an abstract thought. This was real. It wasn’t something he’d read or seen on the TV. Those men had tried to put him in the trunk of a car and God knew what would have happened if they’d succeeded.

The dog came to sit next to him and they both stared at Atl for a good, long time. His coffee cooled down and Domingo crouched close to the bed. He pressed a hand against her forehead.

She was burning with fever.

He thought of the vampire comic books he’d read and the news stories he’d watched, but none of them had talked about sick vampires. Dead vampires, yeah. Dead by stake to the heart, or decapitated, or a bunch of other things. But sick vampires … he had no idea what was happening to Atl and he thought she was getting worse. Her skin was sticky with sweat and her breath was very fast, as though she’d just been running.

She needed to go to the emergency room. She needed a doctor. But if Domingo took her to a doctor they’d call sanitation, the cops.

He knelt down next to the bed, touching her arm. He noticed she was wearing the fancy watch he’d given her and he ran his hands over it.

Domingo swallowed and unbuckled the watch, stuffing it into his pocket.

He ran a hand through his hair.

“Stay with her,” he ordered the dog.

*

It was only ten o’clock, early for a party, but Quinto’s parties started as early as possible and ended late the next morning, so by the time Domingo slipped into the apartment a good-sized crowd had already gathered. All the windows were open to let in the night air. The music was loud and lively. He pushed his way through the living room and noticed that Belén was sitting with the Jackal. He pulled his hood up, hoping neither one noticed him, and managed to stumble into the kitchen, where Quinto was leaning against the sink, drinking a beer.

“Hey, you came!” Quinto said, clasping his shoulder. “Do you have a drink? Is your friend here too?”

“Quinto, I need a favor, all right man? I need you to come and help me with an injured dog,” Domingo said.

“A dog? Right now? Man, you’re crazy. I’ll check it out tomorrow.”

“Look, I can pay you,” he said, tossing him the watch. “It’s worth a lot of money.”

Quinto inspected the watch carefully. He frowned, giving Domingo a suspicious look. “How’d you get something like that?”

Domingo bit his lip and shook his head. “Doesn’t matter how. Come on, man. Please.”

“I don’t know.”

“We can take your car. It’ll be quick. It’s over at my place.”

“Maybe later.”

“Now, man,” he said, glaring down at Quinto, who was on the tiny side and generally reluctant to confront anyone.